


Different

by esteefee



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-13
Updated: 2011-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:25:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the morning after and things are different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Different

When Steve wakes up it’s quiet, as usual—it’s always quiet here—but there’s a hard, warm body crushed up against him, one arm draped over his waist, which is different. Very different. For one brief second Steve doesn’t want to move; considers for the first time not going for his morning swim. But the training is too ingrained to ignore and, besides, he knows he’ll be in a bad mood later if he doesn’t get his work-out. So he presses a brief kiss to Danny’s blond head and then slides out from underneath his arm, grinning when Danny grumbles sleepily and grabs the pillow instead.

The water bites for a second and then it glides cool and perfect against Steve’s skin, and he cuts straight out into the blue, slowly at first to give his stiff, morning muscles time to adjust. He can feel the blood begin to pump faster, his heart starting to pound, and with it comes the usual, clear joy, singing through him, steadying his thoughts.

This morning is different, though. This morning, images of Danny flicker behind his eyelids with every turn of his head, with every breath. Danny’s skin under his palms, lightly tanned, with gold hair brushing his fingertips. Danny’s cock, rising to fill Steve’s mouth, salty, tacky under his tongue. Then Danny’s hands stroking him, his fingers pushing inside him unexpectedly; dangerously good.

Danny’s smile afterward, uncomplicated, his cheek pushing back the sweaty hair on Steve’s forehead.

“Ha, I wrecked you. I did—!” at Steve’s mumbled protest, “I totally wrecked you, man. You are come-stupid right now. Terrorists could roll in here and steal your beer fridge and you wouldn’t be able to crook your weak little trigger finger.”

“C’mere and shut up.” And Danny let himself be caught and kissed, still grinning in triumph.

Steve almost falters in his stroke at the memory, and has to close his mouth to avoid inhaling a mouthful of seawater. He’s almost at the turnaround point, but he feels he could go on forever. He is seriously in the zone right now, and if it weren’t for Danny waiting in his bed back at the house, he maybe would try it, see just how far he could go.

But he turns around and heads back, faster now, really pushing it, thinking of Danny, still warm and sleeping in the mussed-up sheets, and how maybe Steve will come in and drip on him to wake him up. Danny will be indignant and loud and rant a little, but he’ll dry Steve off, complaining the whole time, and then maybe give Steve a salty blow-job, and Steve will return the favor with enthusiasm.

And Steve will make him some Kona, and Danny will be funny and loud, and bumble around Steve’s usually quiet house, making a mess of his orderly kitchen. Different, so different.

Better.

 

 _End._


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes Danny.

Steve just hovers there kneeling over Danny and watching him sleep at first, seeing the crinkle in Danny's forehead and wondering what that's about and listening to him snuffle, and then Steve shakes his head so drops of water fly, sprinkling across Danny's bare skin and making him startle awake with a flail and a gruff yell. Steve laughs a little until Danny's warm hand clutches at his knee.

Then Steve's breath catches in his throat for some reason, when Danny starts climbing him, making vengeful noises, saying, "McGarrett, I swear to _God_ , it's my Sunday, isn't it? The one day I get to sleep in and you pull this shit on me?" And Danny's all warm against Steve's cool front, shivering a little against him, so Steve just has to tackle him down against his noisy complaints and start kissing him, he has no choice, really, and Danny says, "Salty, you're all salty," and starts licking his neck, tracing his collarbone, rubbing a calloused thumb over Steve's nipple.

It's just like he was thinking. It's just exactly like he was thinking out in the water. Steve kicks off his board shorts and tugs on the soft cotton of Danny's boxers, and Danny yelps, "Cold!" when Steve's hand palms his ass, and squirms away, works his way down Steve's chest, and, _Oh_ , hot, hot mouth on his cock. So _hot._ Steve rolls his head on the pillow and arches his back a little, but not too much because he doesn't want to mess with whatever Danny plans to do with that crazy tongue of his, and those warm fingers stroking him so good. But he hopes. He hopes Danny will get creative like he—

Steve groans, his voice too loud in his own ears, and he bites his lip, but Danny does it again, and Steve spreads his legs a little and makes a whiny noise like he can't believe, his balls rushing and tightening up and then he's coming in Danny's hot, hot mouth, and it's so good, so fucking good.

"Danny," he whispers.

"Yup. Still here," Danny says from right around Steve's chest, his hand still cupped over Steve's cock, like he's keeping it warm.

Steve looks down foggily and sees blue green eyes, deep as ocean. "I'm damned glad," Steve says, heartfelt, and tries not to wince in anticipation.

But Danny just smiles wide, calm and joyful.

 

 _End._


End file.
